Copper Tokens on the Sill

I set the tin cylinder aside and picked up the three copper tokens. They felt dense, cold, and rough along their oxidized ridges. Carrying them to the moonlit dormer window, I placed each disc in a neat line across the weathered wooden sill. The pale exterior light revealed faint circular grooves stamped into their faces, matching nothing I had touched downstairs. I stood still, pressing one fingertip against the center coin, letting the nighttime chill slowly settle through the metal.